


The Grove

by sigiseraphina



Category: Original Work
Genre: A/B/O, Abuse, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Beta/Beta, Beta/Omega, Developing Relationship, Dubious Science, F/F, F/M, Family, Gender Identity, Gender Roles, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Omega/Omega, Other, Past Abuse, Queer Themes, Relationship(s), Romance, Sexual Content, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-10 19:24:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4404326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sigiseraphina/pseuds/sigiseraphina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world has been mostly recovered. Few can remeber the failed rebellion, which united the world under the Margonian Empire. The empire slautered and imprisioned the rebellion's leaders and enacted laws to sooth sympathizers and surviors. Most alphas and omegas were content, as the rebellion ended, but many betas were not. Betas had been the forerunners of their rebellion and while they gave up on violent and terroristic behavior, they held resentment in their hearts and never ever let their children forget. The children raised their own to never bow to the possessive alpha and to look down upon those who did. Flinus and Belinda have successfully raised a beta and a border alpha, now their youngest feels it's her time to figure out, who she is, have a course to follow, and her own life to live.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Diagnostic

Chapter 1

My Diagnostic

 

I was nervous, more so than I thought I'd be. I'd been away from home before, but not like this. It was only two days, but it felt like an eternity from the moment my parents left my side. Mother thought I was too young still, but as a beta she respected my resolve. Although my body was a good indication, I needed to know for sure what I was. I was 18 and it was time to plan my life.

Father had assured me that I would know in my heart for sure once I hit puberty. He said his entire family was convinced he was an omega since birth, but once he turned twelve, he knew he was a beta. He was a border beta, but a beta nonetheless. My mother had been the opposite, she was loud and demanding, so she had been coined for an alpha, but sure enough her diagnostic pegged her as a moderate beta. My older sister and brother were border-alpha and an ideal beta, respectively. Either by genetics or nurturing, my family expected me to be a beta, or at worst a border-alpha like my sister.

Alpha, beta, and omega all feel like their group has the best life course, so they naturally push their children towards their own. Alphas enjoy being the protector, provider, and guide. Omegas want to be needed, to aid, and to love. Betas wanted a partnership of push and pull with neither partner always dominate and the other always submissive. I didn't know which I wanted. Many of my friends were neutrals and wanted to do away with the old system of classifying people based on personality and reproductive capabilities. I agreed to an extent, but I wouldn't register as neutral in the state the world is now.

I was raised in a beta household, I can smell rebellion from a mile away. In my off-springs' life it may be safer to be a neutral, or it could illegal again like my grandparents' generation. I don't want trouble for myself: looking over my shoulder, worrying about getting hired, or being removed from half my family's contact list. I didn't want the uncertain life of a neutral, but I wouldn't look down on those who chose it. Not to mention, I have a family history in the rebellion. Even voicing my opinions could ruin my life.

I gasped in surprise, as my adviser finally entered the room, callously closing the door with a bang. She snorted in a amusement as she rounded her desk and took her seat. I wasn't allowed to know anyone's status during my evaluation, but based on her cocky smile, tall heels, and bulky clothing, I was sure she was a moderate alpha, my least favorite of people to deal with. Keeping my judgments to myself, I diverted my attention to the thin stack of files in her hand. She held my past, present, and possible future. A summary of my pedigree, biological diagnosis, and twelve reports from various counselors at this facility.

“Nice to finally meet you,” she glanced at her file, “Sigrid Talaton. My name is Nina Gene, you will refer to me as Dr. Gene. By the end of this conversation, you will have a formal registration as an alpha, beta, or omega. Be aware that this conversation is recorded and anything you say will be legally binding. Once you have been filed, you cannot change your status, unless approved by a medical and psychological evaluations. This is your last opportunity to opt-out and register as a neutral do you wish to do so?”

I nodded through out her speech and responded confidently, “No, I do not want to register as a neutral.”

Dr. Gene smiled, “Then we will proceed, Sigrid. I see that you wrote that you would prefer your nickname Sissie, but for documentation purposes, I will refer to you by your full name. Is that clear?” I nodded and Dr. Gene gave me a mean look, “A verbal answer, Sigird.”

“Yes, Dr. Gene, I understand.”

Her smile returned with a curl, “Good, then we will start with your pedigree. Among your family, 72% are beta, 14% alpha, 4% omega, and 10% unregistered or neutral.” She bit her lip, before reading the next section, “It also states that two of your great-grandparents were executed in the rebellion and several great aunts and uncles were imprisoned for life. That is very unattractive, unless you want a beta.”

I knew all that already and I was ready for my response, “Yes, but my great-grandmother, on my father's mother's side was also on the council. And my maternal grandfather was a prominent anti-neutral advocate. I will not cause any problems.”

“Hmm, that is a fair counter, though I doubt many of your matches would feel the same,” she went to a different page, “And your sister, Adala, is an alpha and there are no formal disowning. How is your relationship with her? Do your parents dislike her?”

“No, of course not! She was my mother's first, how could she not love her?” I had been prepared with a tactful answer to the first, but the second shocked me, I'd never met a parent, who disliked their child, ever. I'd heard of it, but I didn't believe it to be true, or worthy of asking.

“You say “of course”, but disowning is quite common, even in beta based homes? Do you think they don't have the right to protect their family lineage?”

“No, that's not what I'm saying. They feel how they feel and I can't change that, “I saw her look at me sharply, and tried backpedaling, “I just think that.... parents naturally love their children. Disowning is hard on any family. However, if I... if they needed to, my parents should and would disown me.” My parents wouldn't disown me, well, my mother might try, but Father would never allow it and as a beta couple they both have to agree with any legal dealings.

“Very well,” She wrote something down, “Then we'll move onto your biology. You have a third breast, indicating somewhere between a border-omega and a moderate beta. This could also be because your father birthed you. It's not uncommon from omegas borne from men to be missing a fourth or fifth breast. Your brain chemistry seems to be within the border-omega and moderate beta range as well. Your blood work, however, indicates a moderate omega to ideal omega. You'd be good for bearing children, but an alpha wouldn't want to put up with a beta attitude with an omega. Be aware ¾ of your matches were alphas.”

My heart sank and I tried to reason my way out of it, “But, I can fix that right? Maybe therapy, or medication to help me.”

“If your charts lines up and you choose omega, I would suggest it. However, that adds an expense to you and presents you as damaged goods that needs fixing, ” Dr. Gene went through my papers, “The best thing to do, is to wait and see if it is needed in your relationship and then approach your spouse about it.”

“Would that be appropriate...? I thought.... Don't omegas just do as they're told and speak when spoken to.”

She laughed, “Well, maybe in ancient times it would be inappropriate, but now? Totally fine. Alphas are suppose to keep omegas happy, but as much as we-,” she blushed, catching herself a half second to late, “ _they_ want to alphas aren't mind readers. If you were with an ideal alpha, you may have to tread carefully, but I don't think any of your matches were.”

“So I could have opinions? Not demands, but ask for things sometimes?”

“You can't stop people from having opinions. And yes, communicating your wants, in a respectful way, is fine. How often you speak your mind will be dependent on how much your alpha would want you too, some border-alphas might want some resistance from their omega or beta, while ideal-alphas want a more mousy omega. Just be tactful and you'll be fine, especially if you are an omega. Is that where you are leaning?”

“I don't know,” I blurted out. I felt something, but I wasn't sure if I should or could face what that feeling was. How she and society described omegas sounded fine maybe even good, but the way my family described them was very different. Worms, sluts, slaves, weak, useless, mating cows. I didn't want my family to see me like that. My mother would never forgive me.

“Sigrid, calm yourself, we are not to the formal decision yet. You don't have to decide anything right now. Stay with me and stop clinging to the chair so hard, you're going to hurt yourself.”

I release my hands completely, “Sorry, I get clingy when I get scared.”

“Do you need a minute?”

“No, I'm fine.”

“Alright, then, I will move on to your counselors opinions. Ten of the counselors feel you would do best as an omega. Two believe you'd be best as a beta. Both your preferred and least preferred counselors agreed that omega would be best. Most seem to lean towards a border-omega registration, but your preferred would like you to register as a moderate omega based on your behavior and blood work.” Dr. Gene took a pause and made direct eye contact, “The counselors all agree that you are fighting between omega and beta based on other people's feelings. You are noted as having a strong need for family ties and that is why two of the counselors think you need to register as beta, for your own mental health. Do you want to see the individual reports, or is the summary enough?”

“The summary is fine, but...” I sucked on my lip willing myself not to bite it.

“Yes?”

“My preferred counselor seemed to understand me very well and I trust her, but the other two are right. It would crush me if I had to loose my family. I don't know if me being completely comfortable in a relationship is worth the risk. What do you think Dr. Gene?”

She leaned back and twitched her lip in response, “I can't give you an official opinion, since we've only had this short conversation... But, I would say that it is more important to feel comfortable with how you live your life than how your family feels about it. You could make your own family as an omega, you wouldn't need them to have family. Also, you seem to have a need to please and that is an omega trait. I would suggest going omega.”

“Are you sure?”

“Its not up to me. Its up to you, you need to decide. Your diagnostic allows you to pick moderate omega, border-omega, or border-beta. Our session is almost up, you don't have time to think, just feel it out. What are you and what do you want?”

I dug my fingers into my hair, on the verge of tears. I knew my answer and I was scared. Scared of my family, scared of what my spouse would be like, scared of how my life would turn out, scared of it all. At the last minute, I made a slight alteration with a tiny voice, “I... I am a border-omega.”

“Louder.”

“I am a border-omega,” I bawled with the tears starting to flow. I was a moderate omega, but maybe if I registered as a border, maybe then my family would still be okay. I was only a step away from my father and Mother loved him, she could love me too.

“Alright, state your full name and status to finalize your registration.”

I snuffed my nose and did my best to clear my throat, as tears still fell,

“Sigrid Klara Talaton. Border-omega.”

“Thank you.” She offered me tissues and patted my shoulder, before leaving, “It'll be alright. This was your choice, your parents should respect that. The scent cart will be in soon, you'll be much better in a moment.”

I highly doubted that it would be better in a _moment._ I was petrified, devastated, and desperate, it felt like I was locked in a cage and was dying for someone to release me. Maybe if I'd waited the extra three years through college like my mother wanted, maybe I'd be a beta. Maybe I'd be stronger, more able to deal with this. My entire body racked with sobs, I wanted to go home, but that wasn't going to happen now. I knew that if this happened, I couldn't face home. I opted to smell the scents of matches, willing to take me today.

I was told that I would imprint on at least one of the scents and the scent would calm me, but I didn't know how that could be true. My mother was practically an alpha and her scent terrifies me, it's not comforting like my father's border scent. She'd probably tell me I should get use to it, because omegas to her were rats living in constant fear.

As my body racked with sobs, a man, not much older than me came in with a cart full of vials. He looked at me with great sympathy and gave me a big hug. Out of desperation, I hugged back until he let go.

“It'll be alright, dearie, as soon as you sniff the right one, everything will feel better. I promise.”

“What if I don't? What if I just feel worse? What if I don't like any of them?” I sputtered, through my tears.

“Shh, shh, I was in your shoes once too. It's hard to explain, but an alpha's scent can pull some pretty big miracles on your emotions. Even if they all smell horrible, they will calm you and you can grow to like someone's scent. Just between you and me, I thought my husband smelt like a pear tree in a rainstorm, but as time went on I found subtle hints of something real sweet and now rainy season's a lot more friendly on my nostrils.”

I sniffed and pulled myself together just enough to smile. He gave me a grin the size of the sun and said, “Okay, now tilt your head back, just a bit, a little further, perfect, absolutely perfect. Now close your eyes. Take a deep breath through your mouth. Now sniff.”

I inhaled deeply and coughed a bit. It was musty, like an abandoned building. It wasn't good, but it it wasn't a horrible smell, either, and it did make me feel better. A few tears still flowed, but my body was looser and my stomach felt lighter. I opened my eyes as the scent traveled away and I moaned a bit.

“Shh... Close your eyes, relax, and sniff.” He repeated the process four more times. The second smelt like burnt chestnuts, which was a bit of an upgrade. The third was the worst of the bunch and almost made me throw up, it smelt like the vomit of a scavenger that ate flesh that had been too far turned. The last, the last was by far the best. I had to take a deeper sniff than I had with the other ones. It was subtler, at first I couldn't pin point the scent, maybe a little like honey and then I smelt it. It smelt like tulips, my father's favorite. He'd pick red and purple tulips every year for my mother, who enjoyed their beauty and grace.

As the man started to pull the vial away, I instinctively grabbed his wrist and took several more deep breaths of it. I didn't want to be away from it, not even for a second. It was a euphoric trance, broken by laughter. “I take it that's the one you choose, huh? Told you it'd feel nice, but you gotta let go, or my husband'll think someone's messing with me.” Sorry was the only word I could muster, as I begrudgingly let go. “He's already said yes, so if you want him you can have him.”

“I do.” I do want him. I inhaled trying to find the remnants of his scent and jumped as the door swung open.

“What the hell, is wrong with you?!”

It was my mother and I couldn't stand to look her in the eyes, so I stared at the floor. “You are suppose to wait in the other room.”

“Don't tell me, where I'm suppose to be,” she grabbed my chin and pulled my gaze up, “Look me in the eye like a human being!”

“Ma'am, you need to leave, now.” The man tried to touch her shoulder, but Mother slapped his hand away and focused all her anger onto him.

“Try touching me again, rat and see what happens.”

“I'm calling security,” he glowered.

“Fine! Get out!” She turned back to me, “You tell me why.”

“Why?”

“Why you want to be a piece of garbage. Why you want to be treated like the nothing you are. Why?”

“I'm not garbage!” I shouted as tears started again. “I'm a border-omega, and if you can't handle that, then- then disown me!”

“I will.” I fell to my knees and cried into my hands. I chose this. Why did I choose this? Why couldn't I have just lied a little more. “Pathetic.”

“Belinda, get out,” I picked my head up. Father was here. Mother was angrier than I could have imaged, maybe this time, Father wouldn't be so nice. Was he as angry as her? Even angrier?

“No, not this time. Do you realize what she's done? She'll never be anything, she's going to be hurt over and over and just take it! No!”

Father grabbed her hands and glared at her, “This is happening, whether you like it or not. She's not going home, she can't change her mind. You can't can't handle this, so you need to get out, so you don't hurt our daughter more than you already have.”

“You don't understand-”

“I understand better than you. This one came from me, she's mine, I know her and I know how hard it is to be a border and have to choose. Get out.” He released her hands and gave her a harsh gaze.

She looked at me with disgust, “Slut.”

“Out!” My father bellowed and she ran. Once she was gone, he sat on the floor next to me and held his arms out. I clung to him and cried into his shoulder. “I am so sorry, Sissie. So, _so_ , sorry. I had a feeling, but I thought you'd choose like I had. If I knew, I would have come alone.”

“Wh-Why, why is she so mean?” I sobbed.

“Because she doesn't understand. Once you settle in, you'll be happy and eventually she will be happy for you. I know she hurt you, but it's only because she is so frightened for you. Her mother was an omega and her father was so abusive to her-”

I lifted my head up to look at him and cried,“I can handle myself though! I know how to call for help.”

“I know, she thinks being a beta keeps people safer and that's true to a degree, but not like when we were children. I'm sure the person you picked will treat you just fine, and if they don't, you know you always have a place with us.”

“Mom's disowning me.”

He cupped my face in his hands and smiled, “Not while I'm around.”

I cried, but smiled back, “Thanks, Daddy.”

He helped me up, gave me tight squeeze, and finished by saying, “I love you and you have my blessing. Now go clean up and say hello to your person with your big beautiful smile.”

“You always know what to say.”

“You will too,” he kissed my forehead, “Goodbye for a little while, my small girl.”

“Goodbye...”

 


	2. My Match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter will contain domestic discipline

After Father left, the young man returned with security and asked me several questions. Unfortunately for Mother, she'd caused such a ruckus on her way in and out that she was issued a citation, even with my begging. She'd chalk the citation up as another failure on my part. I'm just glad the institute didn't place the blame on me. If they had, there's no way my match would still agree to take me home.

Better yet, matches were kept on the other side of the center, so the chances of him seeing her were slim to none. Even if he did, I take more after my father, so he probably wouldn't draw a connection. Please don't draw a connection. I took a deep breath, I couldn't go into another panic. I'd cried more today than in any given month in my life. I'd always been over dramatic in the month leading up to my mid year heat. Combined with the drama today and the nerves of the past year it just made me weepy.

I needed to suck it up though, Father was right, I needed to saw hello to my match with a smile. Determined to stay calm, I was lead through several hallways into a room to prepare myself in. The room was nicer than I expected. It was the width of my arms and several strides deep. There were orange drapings lining the room that met at the the center with a glass bubble holding them together. The lighting was a bit dim with only a golden lamp on either side of the room, one next to the door and the other next to a vanity surround my mirrors.

My mate had selected the room for me and left some of his scent behind. This was an easy room to stay calm in. My escort gave me a bag I had packed before leaving home. He also reminded me I would only have an hour to prepare. I wanted to laugh when he said an hour was my limit. I could be ready and take a long nap with that amount of time.

Once he was gone, I got straight to work. I felt like my younger self for a moment. I used to love to play dress up and image who'd I'd marry when I was older. I imaged, but never thought that this day would come so soon.

I started with my make-up. I was a bit self conscious about my skin tone. I always felt like it was always needed to be just a bit darker or a tad lighter, but I was stuck with a tawny light-brown tone that rested in between my mother's pale and my father's medium tone. I didn't know if my match would prefer darker or lighter, so I just moisturized my face and avoided foundation. My older sister, Adala, insisted I was bad at picking make-up for myself and begrudgingly, I had allowed her to pick my cosmetics. I hadn't checked them before coming, in fear she chose something either too subtle or gaudy.

She had gotten me all plum make-up, of course, she'd pick my least favorite color. I couldn't leave with just my face though, so I put on the eye shadow, mat lip stick, and blush and was very thankful to find chocolate eye liner. I was happily surprised that the plum did compliment both my father's green eyes and Mother's dark brown hair.

Next was clothes. I had supplied five distinct outfits that my match could choose from. I was a bit surprised by his choice, I'd chosen it on the far off chance I'd get match that was an ideal alpha. I'd only worn the outfit once to my junior ball which had a traditional theme. As embarrassing as it was, I had to ask the escort to help me, thankfully he got a female to help me out. My underwear complete with bloomers and stockings were no issue, but the brown dress, while small, had multiple layers easy to get lost in. Not to mention the corset and the buttoning on the back of my neck. I was relieved that at least my match had removed the scratchy gloves and the wobbly decorative hat I had left with my outfit. However, he did add some red heels from a much skimpier outfit.

The outfit wasn't my first choice, but I looked lovely in it. The dress went a few inches shy of my ankles. It's base was a chocolate brown with a high collar, lightly padded shoulders, and red buttons on both the front and back. The middle layer was red ruffles, which only peaked in between the outer and inner dress and at the bottom the dress. The final layer was basically an overly long beige apron, but I liked it. I guess my match liked it too.

The woman helping me, primped my hair a bit, but my strands were too stubborn to really fix, so she gave up. In all, it took me a little over a half an hour, much longer than I'd thought. Time hadn't really existed in this room and the prospect of leaving it made me nervous again, though not like before. My escort led me down an endless hallway. I felt sick suddenly, old insecurities bubbling, fear of the unknown, and some excitement. It felt like too much. I tried to imagine what they'd look like, but all I had was a scent and outfit choice to go off of and it wasn't enough. The outfit could be from a traditional person, someone who was experimenting with traditionalism, a random selection, someone who like fashion, or even someone who chose it as a joke. I just didn't know and that made me feel worse.

As we reached the door leading to one of the exit bays, I took a humongous breath and put on the biggest smile I could muster. I couldn't give a real smile, I was too nervous, but I wanted my match to see a smile at least. The door opened and he was right there in front of me. He was shorter than I expected, but still taller by a hand. He was dressed in semi-casual business wear with a collared shirt, brown sweater vest, large glasses, and matching tie. His skin was so pale, his eyes were the midday sky, and his hair was light chestnut. He was beautiful, I felt frozen, but I wanted to run. My face must of showed it, because he wrapped his arm around my neck and led my head to the crook of his, where his scent was strongest. The scent of tulips hit me immediately and I let out the breath I'd been holding. I started to move my head back, but he kept a firm hand on my neck to keep me in place. I felt sick again, thinking maybe my family had been right. But then he stroked my face and led my gaze to his.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi,” I stupidly replied.

He let go of me with a chuckle and held out his hand, “Milo Esmond Juniper.”

“Sigrid Klara Talaton.” I shakily took his hand. He took mine, kissed it, and then sniffed my wrist with a smile. He was making me blush. I didn't know what to do, so I cautiously said, “Thank you?”

He laughed more and released my hand. His laugh was a weird one, staggered and soft, but deep. Either it or my nerves made me laugh along and give him an uncertain smile. He petted my face again and took my hand, “Time to go home, lovely.” I blushed, as I squeezed the hand that led me. It felt like a dream. He was kind and fine looking, well a bit too pale, but he knew how to hold my hand firmly and comfortably. I could be happy with him.

He lead me out glass doors to an older car. It was brown with worn golden pipes, bulging lights, and a stretched hood. Although the exterior was a bit rough, the interior was brand new with ruddy leather seating, lined with wooden floors, and tinted windows, one of which separated the front from the back. Milo helped me in and followed after me. Seeing these surroundings made me nervous again. I didn't grow up poor, by any means, but I also didn't come from this side of the river.

The way he kissed my hand, the dress he chose for me, the old car, everything pointed to an ideal alpha and a traditional lifestyle. I chewed on my index finger. The only exposure to this lifestyle was via a class in secondary school, a class that I barely passed, and an hour long session at the center. There were so many rules, unspoken rules, ways to dress, ways to speak, ways to simply exist. I had to get out.

I hadn't noticed until he gripped my hand, but Milo had moved much closer to me. He forced my face into his neck and held it there. I tried to struggle at first and to not breath in his scent. I was trapped, I needed to get out. I didn't want to be forced to feel better. I couldn't hold my breath forever and eventually had to take in his scent. Fear and worry were still on my mind, but as soon as the emotions began to fade, I suddenly felt desperate, twitchy, angry. I should be able to feel how I want to.

I struggled in his grasp, which only made him hold my head tighter and growl in warning. I whined and pushed against his chest, trying to breath as little as possible. He let me go, only to throw me over his lap. Twisting his body, he wrapped his left arm around my waist and started striking me with his right. I blushed, locking my arms on the floorboard to keep myself upright and trying to squirm away from his hold. It didn't hurt, with all the layers I barely felt anything, but I could hear it and I could feel how tight his grip was around my waist. It was embarrassing and frustrating. I couldn't get away, not with his strength compared to mine, but that didn't stop me from trying.

“Enough, Sigrid,” Milo commanded.

“Noooo,” I whined, continuing to fight his grip. I was upset, I should be able to be upset. I didn't want my face stuffed in his neck every time I felt anything. That wasn't fair.

I heard him give a sigh and he pulled back the layers of my dress and pushed me onto a solitary knee. I had to hold onto the seat across from me just to keep my head off the ground. I felt the car begin to move and I wanted to thrash, but I was too unbalanced to even squirm anymore.  
I immediately regretted my choice of bloomers, they were thin and airy. That combined with the modern tight underwear underneath, made every swat sting fiercely and sound loudly. I was confident the driver could hear and that made me feel worse. I slowly accepted that I couldn't escape his grip, so I relaxed my lower half and bit my bottom lip waiting for him to finish.

A few minutes passed and his speed increased, tears started to fall. “Please!” I begged.

“Please, what, darling?”

I cried, “Please, stop! I'm sorry!” I relaxed my torso and allowed my face to hit the floorboards. I was sobbing in shame. I just wanted him to stop, I'd do anything.

He pulled me onto his lap, making sure my dress was still bunched and that my bottom landed right on his thigh. It just wanted the pain to go away, it felt worse now that he had stopped. Bawling, I clung to him and put my face in the crook of his neck. Inhaling deeply over and over again. He stroked my hair and patted my back kindly. I felt better, which made me feel worse. All I could think about is what my mother would think of me. He struck me and I felt better. She'd think I was sick.

I yelped as I felt a pitch. “Look at me, Sigrid.” Pouting and sniffling I obeyed. “You need to calm down and stay out of your head.”

“But, I-,” I cut myself off. I didn't know if I could tell him how I felt. This was all new and I felt lost. And I definitely didn't want to be calmed by his scent right now, or maybe I did. I just didn't know.

“Stop,” Milo took my hand away from my mouth. I hadn't even realized I had been chewing my finger again. He held both my hands together on my lap and used his free hand to wipe my cheeks with his handkerchief. “But, what? Tell me what's bothering you.”

I stopped myself before I could start chewing my lip and glanced down away from him. I couldn't look him in the eyes, it was too much, but he made me before he'd let me speak. “I just, don't know... what I should be doing. It feels different than I thought it would.”

“What did you think, this would be like?”

“Different... I don't know. It feels surreal. I don't know you at all and... It's scary.”

He released me from his lap and allowed me to sit next to him, but he still held both of my hands. It was a better position for me. I didn't feel so young anymore. It was like just talking and I never had issues with talking. “What do you want to know about me?”

Everything. “Um, what's your family like?” That's a good start.

He smiled and finally broke eye contact with me. “Well, my father was an alpha with two omegas. The first was my mother, she only had a litter of two with my brother Alaric and I. When we were about six, his second mate, Kari had a litter of three. My father kept us in different homes, so I'm not overly close with my half-siblings, but I know two are mated and one just had her first litter. My full brother and I are very close though. Alaric and I always help each other out whenever possible.

“Father has always been busy commanding the family company. He's dedicated, strong, and brilliant. I've always thought the same of my mother, although she's more tactful than him. When I was young, my brother and I always asked her for things, because we knew she could convince Father to do anything she wanted. She had to be put in her place quite a few times, but she was always happy. Now, tell me about your family.”

“Umm, well,” I didn't want to say anything wrong, but I couldn't lie, “My mother and father are both beta's. My mother had two single births with my older siblings, Adala and Tegan. Adala got married a couple years ago and she has a pair of one-year olds. She's nosy and a bit selfish, but she's always has good intentions and loves fashion. Tegan just got married. They want to wait a few years before having children. He's pretty awkward, but he always has a plan for everything. I get along better with him, but I'm closer to Adala.”

“As for parents, my mother is scary. Closed-minded, opinionated, and overbearing, I love her though and have always looked up to her for strength. My sweet and always knows what to say. Once he became pregnant, he quit his job and decided to stay home with all of us. I've always loved spending time with him.” I was getting teary thinking about all of them. I removed one of my hands from Milo's grasp to flick the tears away. I might be able to call and write them, but it'd be awhile before I could see them, touch them, hold them. Alphas generally liked their partners to stay away from old relationships, so they could focus on their new life. Adala was just a border-alpha and she'd kept Lila from her family until she was four months pregnant.

Milo took my hand back and reestablished our eye contact, “It's alright to miss them, darling. You don't need to hold your tears back on my account.”

I smiled giving a sad chuckle, “It's not that, I'm just sick of crying. It's just this time of the year makes me weepy. I'm really not like this. I'm sorry.”

He released my hands and wrapped his arm around me. “We should be home soon, is there anything else you need to make you feel better?”

“I'm alright.” Talking always helps me. And now I could say that I had been worse. I wasn't a hundred percent, but I was much more relaxed. Leaning against him as he played with my hair, a question did pop up in my head. “Uh, earlier, why did you... um?”

“Why, did I give your bottom a good spanking?” he asked impishly.

I whined and nodded into his chest. The word made me blushed. I hadn't had one since I was eight, when I brought home a third note from school for talking out of turn too much. Mother usually handled the discipline, but she'd been out of town for business, so my father had attended to me. His were always worse than Mother's. As harsh as she was, she was always a light spanker. As if she thought that she'd break us from the half dozen swats.

“I gave you a spanking, because, you wouldn't accept my scent and needed to calm down. I don't want you hurting yourself and working yourself into a panic.”

“Sometimes, I just need to a have a bit of a freak-out.” Which was true, sometimes I just needed to think of everything horrible, get extremely upset, explode a little, and then I could feel better.

“You do not need to work yourself into a frenzy to feel better. It is tormenting yourself and I will not have that, is that clear?” he demanded giving me a firm glare.

“Yes, sir,” I meekly answered, looking towards the floor again.

“Thank you,” he said petting my hair, “You've made my hand quite sore. I would hate having to introduce you to the paddle on our first night together.” I balled my fists in my dress and sucked lightly on my lip.

As the car stopped, he kissed the top of my head, and put his forehead on mine, “But, I will if you need to love. Relax and let me take care of you.”

“Its hard,” I blushed.

“I know, my strong girl. I'll help you,” he replied kissing my cheeks, neck, and forehead, but avoiding my lips. It was so sweet. I didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but I pulled myself closer to him and gave him the first real kiss. He held the back of my neck and returned it too me, only to stop at the sound of a cough.

Milo pulled back from me, rolling his eyes, “We're coming Jarvis.” His driver had opened the door for us and was watching. I squeezed Milo's hand in shame as he helped me out. This man must think I'm a slut. Not even out of the car and already I've been spanked, comforted, and kissed.

Milo returned my hand squeeze, in what I assumed was a warning. “Sorry...” I said as he lead me to the entrance. I looked around my surroundings to try and pinpoint where I was. I clearly hadn't been paying any attention during the drive. The house was surrounded by old trees, so I couldn't get a view of anything surrounding the property. All I knew that this was an old white mansion with a circle drive, gardens, and an impressive entry way.

“You're fine, darling,” he assured me as Jarvis opened the door for us and we walked in, hands glued together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, all so much for ready. It's my first A/B/O story, so I would love some feedback!


	3. My Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos! This chapter is a bit longer and hopefully, I'll have the next chapter up next weekend. Thank you all so much for reading.

I squeezed his hand tighter, as if he'd disappear and I'd wake up back at my house, but this was my home now and it had way stimulation. The entry way was two stories, with a pair of stairs on both sides of the room. They went up one level to a small landing, then arched towards each other to form a larger landing at the top level. There were plants everywhere, most of which I didn't recognize. The over sized vase next to the left staircase had recognizable flowers; orange begonias mixed with pale daffodils.

“This a portrait of my family when I was twelve,” I snapped my head towards the center of the room, where a large photograph rested below the main landing. “It's not hard to tell my brother and I apart, is it?”

“He's a giant,” I replied glancing over the four faces. Milo clearly took after his father, with glasses, brown hair, and blue eyes. His brother, just the opposite, taking after his mother with golden hair, brown eyes, and tan skin. His mother was beautiful and his father looked kind, although there was a large scar across his face.

Milo laughed, “He does look like one. He was taller than both our parents by our fourteenth birthday. I didn't even pass Mother until I was sixteen. Alaric's is usually first though, walking, talking, sports, straight A's, even marriage. But I'm two hours older, so I was the first to be first.” 

Hearing him talk about his brother made me relax. It reminded me that he was just a person. Their dress in the photo alone told me that we'd grown up in completely different ways, but family was always the same. And with how loving he spoke of his brother, it gave me hope that he'd let me contact my own family sooner rather than later. I allowed myself to just hold his hand rather than strangle it. It made my muscles sore and I was a bit worried I had hurt him. Before I could apologize, Milo gently tugged my hand and lead me up the right staircase.

“This house was actually built 153 years ago by my three times great-grandfather Wiltold Juniper the First for him and his mate Saif. Each generation adds onto the property, but we always try to keep the home in a similar style.” Milo paused as we reached the top of the stair case and pointed out a pair of doors on opposite sides of the room. “The right is a guest suite. Until recently, my brother and his family lived there. The left is where our family will stay.”

Beaming with excitement, Milo opened the door for me and led me through the private section of the house. Inside the door was a cozy sitting room complete with couches, lamps, and an extravagant fire place and mantle. I was drawn to the only window in the room, which hidden by gaudy red and gold drapes. Without thinking, I move the drapes out of the way and gazed down at the yard. Again I was stunned by the shear number of plants, but this time most were recognizable: aster and willow trees, bushels of honeysuckle and hydrangeas, and plenty of lillies and daisies among tall leafy plants. There was an old walkway with moss creeping through every crevasse. It reminded me of my grandmother's garden, lush and healthy, wild and free, and most of all beautiful. Everything looked like it belonged where it set. 

I hadn't even noticed Milo's arms around me until he spoke. “Are the gardens, alright?”

“They're amazing.”

“Perhaps, tomorrow evening, we could take a stroll through them? I would say tonight, but by the time we have dinner it'll already be night.” I looked out the window again and turned my attention to the sky, I hadn't even noticed the sun was close to setting. Taking my hand again he led me to the master bedroom, which was an apartment by itself. It had a small sitting area, a cypress desk, and a bed big enough for six adults. There were several windows in this room, but again, they were all covered in heavy drapings. Instinctively, I reached for the nearest draping to move it, but Milo pulled me along to two sets of doors and again ushered me into the left side.

“This is your dressing room. I've hired someone to help you, but she won't be starting until Monday, so you'll have to put up with me until then.” 

I couldn't help chewing my lip. I didn't want anyone working for me. Technically, she'd be working for Milo, but she'd be tending to me and that felt wrong and I didn't want to dress in a way that needed daily assistance. Given our surroundings, I could only assume Milo would be working most of the day and I'd be here, alone. I wouldn't have anyone to impress. Honestly, I wouldn't mind having to dress nice, but these gowns were so archaic. A few flappers, maxis, sundress, or even a babydoll dress would be an improvement. An occasional jean and t shirt would be ideal.

“Enough, love,” Milo warned, gently patting my cheek.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I released my lip.

Milo nodded, and went behind me to begin undoing my dress layers. “We're going to have to work on that habit of yours.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled again, using every ounce of will power not to begin chewing or picking at myself. I had to look up at the ceiling and close my eyes to keep myself calm as he peeled through my layers. I'd had a girlfriend when I was sixteen, but she'd never undressed me or seen me nude. It felt demeaning, as if I didn't have the ability to do such a simple task as dressing like a helpless infant, but it also felt nice. His fingers moving across my sides, his breath on the top of my head, and his arms gently guiding me into any position he pleased. I didn't need to think, he was doing it for me.

When he got to my modern underware layer, he gently slide his hand from my trunks up to my exposed belly. “I will have to get you more like this. I didn't expect the modern to suit you so well.”

I couldn't help, but breath a sigh of relief. At least my underwear could be normal. It'd take at least one layer out of the equation and there'd at least be one layer I could be comfortable in. Milo only laughed at my relief, as he helped me into a much simpler orange gown with lace at the top and a few ruffles on my chest and midriff. The color was flashy, but I was just happy to have only two layers of clothing on. It was almost normal.

“If you need to primp yourself, our bathroom is to the right. I need to change my attire as well.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome, darling,” Milo grabbed my cheeks and kissed me deeply, but briefly. I smiled at him, as he stroked my hair on his way out.

He was kind. He was rich. He smelt fantastic. But there was something wrong. I wandered back to the bedroom and sat on the bed's edge, as I waited for Milo to re-emerge from, presumably, his closet. I glanced at the ceiling and tried to take deep breaths. Nothing was wrong and yet everything was. I wished I could call Father, he'd know what to tell me. Maybe this was a mistake. It felt like one, but why? Sure the clothing was weird and maybe he felt a bit too rich, but I'd known a life like this had been possible, not likely, but possible. 

I gasped, as a hand appeared in front of me followed by the familiar snort laugh. “Sorry, love, didn't mean to startle you. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I replied slowly, taking his hand.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, of course,” I lied, “Just a bit tired.”

“Dinner will perk you up. Your file said you liked trout and herring, is that correct?” He asked, leading me downstairs.

“They're my favourite.”

“Excellent, I had trout prepared for us tonight. Served with parsley potatoes and fresh green salad from the gardens.”

I forced out a smile, “Sounds delicious.”

As we reached the dining room, Milo stroked my hair and lead my head to his neck. Wanting nothing more than to calm down, I took in several deep breathes, letting out a small whine as he removed my face and pulled my chair out for me. I took my seat obediently, feeling absolved enough to ignore any lingering feelings of worry. I smiled at him from across the monolithic table. I wanted to be right beside him to smell him again or let him stroke my hair. His hands were surprisingly large with a few callouses, which I found both attractive and strange. 

When the food was served, I was more than relieved that there was only a fork and a knife, all of it came out pre-proportioned on its own plate. It was all regular sized and had no fancy cutlery, just like a normal meal. I immediately started on the salad. I hated silent dinners, but I also was still unsure of how to behave, so I figured I could come up with something to idly chatter about. I noticed there was a painting of a mountain scene with a cougar and a crow. Maybe he liked the mountains, or maybe his family did. Mountains was a bad topic though. Camping, hunting, climbing, all things I'd never done. I'd never even been on a mountain and the zoo was the only place I'd seen true wild animals. Animals in general could be a nice topic, though. I'm not animal crazy, but everyone has to like some animal.

Unfortunately for me, Milo beat me to the punch with very non-idle conversation. I nearly chocked on a crouton. “So, how many children would you like?”

Again, he laughed at me as I swallowed and coughed in shock. His chuckles were loosing their charm quick. “P-Pardon?” I asked trying to restrain myself. We'd known each other, maybe three hours? And already we were to this conversation. I guess I knew that traditional alphas liked to have children as soon as possible, but three hours.

“I think you heard me love. I still haven't added my mark to our home and I'd like to know if we'll be needing extra space for the little ones.”

“Um...” I was suddenly stuffed, food sounded disgusting. I guzzled an entire glass of white wine in under a minute. I wasn't must of a light-weight, but I wasn't having this conversation sober. I could not.

“It's so sweet you're so shy, love, but really-”

“I am not shy,” I declared, glowering at him. Three hours. Three hours is not shy.

Milo crossed his arms and gave me a hard look, “Watch yourself, love.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but stopped myself. Sassing wouldn't help me, but I couldn't apologize either. Dramatically, I stood up, placed my napkin on the table and turned to leave the room. My heel broke, of course my heel broke. I couldn't have one moment of dignity. I hissed in pain and pulled my left ankle towards me to rub the pain out. Before I noticed him, Milo had picked me up with ease. 

Panicked, I blurted, “I'm sorry!” But he just shushed me and rearranged me to make it easier for him to hold me. I clung to his neck, afraid he'd drop me, as he started up the staircase.

Milo didn't say anything as we reached the top landing and pushed open the door to the sitting room. He laid me gently on one of the couches, sat the floor by my feet, removed my shoes, and started rubbing my left ankle gently.

“I'm sorry,” I repeated. Why couldn't he be a jerk, so I could still be angry. He didn't even respond to me, he just kept rubbing my ankle. I started to cry and covered my face, trying to remain silent. This was going to be the rest of my life. How could I know how to be the omega he wanted? There's just me. I was just a border, I wasn't what he needed. He'd probably get another mate, put me away in another house and forget I existed. 

“Love, calm down,” he sighed, forcing me to uncover my face and look at him. “Why are you so upset?”

“I don't know what I'm doing. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry,” I cried wanting nothing more than to cling to him and have him forgive me. I was being stupid. It was just a question, maybe he'd been joking and even if he hadn't. I shouldn't have freaked out. I felt disgusted with my self and sobbed harder.

“Stop crying, you'll make yourself sick. You're fine,” he promised, trying to wipe my tears away, but they wouldn't stop falling. With a sigh, he grabbed my neck again and led my face to him. I cried into his neck taking in his scent trying to get a grip on myself. “You're fine, love, it's all right. Just calm down.”

It took only a few moments of his scent and I was better, sort of. My heart still ached and my body felt stiff, but the tears had stopped and I could breath again. “I'm sorry...” I said less desperately.

“We'll take care of it love,” Milo replied as he lifted me again and took me into our bedroom and sat me on the edge of the bed. He stood above me and led my chin upwards. “What did you mean, when you said you don't know what you're doing?”

“I don't know.”

“Yes, you do. Tell me why you've been so worked up,” he encouraged, stroking my cheeks.

“This is a lot for three hours...” I kept my chin up, but I focused my eyes away from him, “I don't know what you want me to do. I keep screwing up.”

He sat beside me and held my hands. “Sigrid.” I looked at him again, “This is difficult for you.” I sighed, annoyed and looked away. Yes, this is difficult. No shit. 

“Sigrid,” he repeated harshly. I winced and chewed my lip, still looking away. “I'll tell you  _ exactly _ what I expect of you.” 

“I-”

“Hush!” he ordered, standing up and pulling me up gently. “One, you will listen when I am speaking to you. Do not interrupt me.”

He unzipped my dress and slide it off my shoulders. I blushed starting to tear up, embarrassed. “Two,” he grabbed my chin with one hand and squeezed my breast with the other, “You will not hide from me. You will look at me, answer my questions, tell me how you feel, and you will not fight my touch.” 

He removed my bra and gave each of my breasts a squeeze. “You are my omega and I'm your alpha. We have no secrets. Is that clear?”

“Y-Yes, a-alpha,” I sniffled trying to hold back tears, mindlessly chewing my lip.

With only my underwear protecting me, he laid me across the bed and started slapping my bottom. “Three, you will not hurt yourself. No more picking or biting at yourself and no more working yourself up.”

“I'm sorry!” I shouted, clinging to the sheets and releasing my lips.

“Four, you will be respectful. No backtalk, no glares, no cursing, and no storming off to have a tantrum!” he ended the last bit with unyielding slaps that made me jump.

“Please, stop...! I'm sorry!”

“Hush.” He pulled off my underwear, leaving me completely exposed. I stretched my arms out for anything to cling to, but the pillows were completely out of reach, so I had to dig into the bedding and kick my legs to stay at least partially in place.

“Finally, you will be obedient and follow any and all commands I give you. Are you listening Sigrid?”

“Y-Yes! AH! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Owwwww!”

“Good,” Milo growled with a final swat, “Stay where you are. I'll be back in a moment. I will be glad to start over if we need to. No touching your bottom either, it's stinging for a reason.”

“Y-Yes, a-alpha,” I bawled, my body racking with sobs. I couldn't think straight, so I just listened. I heard a door slam; I heard drawers being dug threw, slammed, and emptied; I heard his heavy footsteps as he drifted further then closer again. His shoes were heavy, even on the carpet they were loud, though in the bathroom it sounded worse. I whimpered every time he drew closer and dropped another item on the bed, some heavy and some light, but I didn't dare look back. I just wanted this to be over.

“On your knees, love.” Shakily, I pushed my self up onto my knees. I didn't know if he wanted me like this, on all fours or to sit back on my knees, thankfully it was the former. Sitting would not be enjoyable. I saw his shadow move to the head of the bed, before coming back to me and placing two pillows underneath me. He grabbed my hips and lead me down onto them and spread my legs.

“Milo,” I whispered. I didn't like where this was headed.

“It's alright love,” he handed me another pillow, “Hold onto this for your paddling.”

“B-but, I-”

“Hush. Your spanking was to help you learn our rules. This,” he rubbed cool wood against my bottom, “is for your misbehavior. Tell me our rules.”

“In order?” I asked. There were only a few, but I doubt I remembered all of them, the burn had been distracting.

“Yes.” He gave the first swat. “First rule.”

I racked my brain for how all this started. The boob squeezing had been rememberable, but it wasn't the start, I couldn't remember. “Don't hide from you?”

“Wrong.” He gave five swats to each of my thighs. “First rule.”

“Uh, uh, OW!”

“If you want this to be over, I'd remember what I'd said faster.”

Oh! “Listen to what you say.”

“Good girl,” he praised with a pair of swats between my thighs. “Second rule?”

“Don't hide from you!” I yelped, squeezing the pillow. Milo wasn't striking as hard with the paddle, but the paddle was so much heavier and with my butt sore and my thighs soft, the paddle felt a thousand times worse.

“Third rule?” he prompted. I furrowed my brow trying to remember, but I took too long and earned five more swats that made me howl. I bit my lip trying to remember, which earned me five swats a piece on my thighs. “Third rule, now, or I  _ will  _ start over from the beginning.”

“N-No! N-no, hurting myself,” I blubbered.

“There it is,” he chirped with two more smacks. “Fourth rule?”

“Be respectful!”

Two more swats. “Fifth rule?”

“Obedience.” The hardest swats yet.

“Good job, love,” he praised, still holding the paddle on my bottom. “I think that just about takes care of our listening rule. We'll work on the other rules tomorrow night. Alright, love?” I nodded into the pillow vigorously, too tired to lift my head. He finished with several harsh swats to my thighs, before stroking my hair gently. 

“All done for tonight, love,” he promised.

Turning my head to breath, I noticed he'd laid the paddle next to my head. Sobbing, I brokenly said, “I'm sorry... I'll do better. I swear.”

“I know you will, now hold still while I rub some lotion into your bottom. I don't want you to have any marks in the morning.”

“K-Kay.” 

“That's my omega,” he whispered, as he started squirting the bottle onto my bottom and thighs. The cold felt nice, but his rubbing was more than a little rough. I whined, but he was unsympathetic. “I guess you'll think next time, before you're naughty, won't you?”

“There won't be a next time,” I told him with a pout. He squeezed my bottom, making me yelp.

“I doubt that very much, love. I think your bottom has need of several more lessons and I'll take care of all of them.” He was probably right, I had already had two strikes today and I wasn't searching for a third, so I didn't respond.

After a few minutes of quiet, Milo patted my side and instructed me to role over. As soon as I did, he crawled onto of me and let me smell his neck as he caressed each of my breasts going from his right to my right. Trusting my body and accepting his scent, I moaned and pulled myself closer to him. We kissed as his hand slowly made it's way down my body. As he reached his goal, he started stroking and smiled at me.

“My, my, is it that easy to please you, or did you enjoy your punishment, love?”

I didn't answer, I wanted him to shut up and keep going. I pulled his head down and started to kiss him more aggressively as his fingers moved faster. He was a nice kind of sweaty, enough that I could smell his scent. Tulips. Suddenly the rest of the night faded away. My body was hot. It was better than being in heat and stealing from Tegan's porn collection. 

Leaning back for air, I started fumbling with his bow tie and he threw his jacket off. As the layers came off the more potent his scent became. I cried out in euphoria and yanked on his bed loops. I needed him now. By the time, he rose to his knees to toss his belt aside, I was already pulling down his pants and drawers. Taking my signals, he yanked off his two layers of shirts and dove into me with his pants still around his ankles and his knot as hard as diamond.

He pounded me over and over again, as we moaned. I grabbed him and rocked my hips against him, encouraging him to go faster and deeper. He followed my lead. The next several minutes was an eternity filled with moans, cries, scratches, scents, and lots of fluids. It had been worth everything leading up to it. We were both exhausted by the end of it, but I couldn't wait for more.

He moved to get up, but I grabbed him and kissed him, one last time. I said the only thing I could think of, “Thank you.”

He burst out in hysterical laughter and laid next to me, on the side unblocked by pillows, and wrapped his arms around me, kicking his pants off. Gazing into my eyes, he smiled, stroked my hair, and sweetly replied, “I love you.”

 


End file.
